


Ninth Night

by AGRey701000



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hanukkah, Implied Mpreg, Implied Sexual Content, Intersex Damian Wayne, Jewish Holidays, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Winter, asian and middle eastern food reference, damijon secret santa 2020, sfw, surprise wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28283658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGRey701000/pseuds/AGRey701000
Summary: December is the first month of winter, last of the year, shortest day and longest night....it also just happened to fall into Jon's carefully orchestrated plan for the cleverest if not sappiest gift he could give his boyfriend.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Damian Wayne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Ninth Night

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: HELLO! Merry Christmas Eve! This is a piece I made for the Damijon Secret Santa 2020 on tumblr via @IAmWhelmed! It was fun to write, a venture into new concepts (if you squint, but testing the waters). I gifted this to @Bryna from Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/brynarae) check her out, she's a great artist!
> 
> ENJOY!

**DO NOT REPOST. DO NOT EDIT. DO NOT REBLOG.**

**Disclaimer:** I DO NOT OWN THE DC FRANCHISES OR ANY AFFILIATES.

**Copyright © 2020 Antonia G. Reyes All Rights Reserved.**

__________________________________________________________________________________

Jonathan Samuel Kent was a desperate man on a mission. It was nearly December and although he’d been preparing since October, he still had yet to acquire the centerpiece of which his entire enterprise was based around.

He scoured the internet, the local and international antique shops but there was a great deal to be said in regards to artifacts devoid of heretical history verses heirlooms.

He meant to contact Bruce or even Alfred on the matter but time, in its infernal cycle robbed him of that simple act.

Shaking the chill and snow from his raven hair, he walked two steps up to the solid mahogany door, grasping the gargoyle knocker and giving it a good bang. The echo reverberated in his ears and he zeroed in on swift, steady footsteps.

Jon smiled knowingly; Alfred Pennyworth appointed grandfather of the esteemed Wayne family and one _hell_ of a butler. A constant and resilient figure that served as the voice of reason and reflection, he liked the old man the minute he met him all those years ago.

A whoosh of air breaks Jon’s reverie and he comes face to face with Alfred who smiles demurely as he steps aside to allow him in, “Good morning Master Jonathan, it’s always a pleasure to see you.”

Jon smiles, “Hi Alfred, how’s everything going?”

The man closed his eyes and shut the door, “It is satisfactory. Everyone is alive.”

Jon snorted; Alfred’s dry humor was gold, really.

“Master Bruce is currently in his study, I trust you can find your way?”

“Like the back of my hand! Thanks again Alfred.”

A slight bow, “Of course Sir.”

________________

Jon knocked firmly against the door, taking in a breath as his eyes traveled around the wide hallway and portraits that hung next to one another solemnly.

“Enter”

Twisting the knob, he sees Bruce lounging in his chair, legs hitched on the desk as he mulls over miscellaneous paperwork. Glancing up, ice blue irises spark and a grin crosses his face.

“Jon, come in!”

The Super smiles brightly as he sits on a chair across from the Bat, “Hi Bruce, I know I should’ve called bu--”

“ _Jon._ Please, you’re practically family; so what can I do for you?”

That made his heart thump with happiness, he wasn’t prideful enough to hide the fact that upon initially meeting the Batman, he’d been more than a bit intimidated but through the years, he had the privilege to see rare glimpses of the man’s personality and had grown to respect the vigilante more than he already did.

Jon chuckled and shook his head bashfully but otherwise sobered enough to speak, “Well, it has to do with---and you can turn this down—but I was curious about whether or not you had a Hanukkah menorah?”

Bruce’s eyes flited with tenderness even though his eyebrows were risen slightly, “I...perhaps. My mother was Jewish, how did...?”

Jon’s eye wavered, “Damian told me some months back and since Hanukkah is in December, I thought it would be a nice tribute to your mom and his grandmother. He kind of mentioned having an interest too sooo...”

A dusty pink blushed upon his cheeks and Bruce’s eyes softened with mirth, standing he walked around the desk and laid a hand on Jon’s broad shoulder. Squeezing it, he smiled “I think it’s a wonderful idea Jon. Come, I seem to remember Alfred knowing the exact whereabouts.”

Jon stood and followed behind the man as they chatted serenely on their way towards the kitchen.

_________________________________________________

_Thursday December 10 th _

Candle 1-Evening 1

Damian huffed, breath smoky given the wintry chill that seeped into his bones despite the thick layers of clothing he wore. He grumbled as he waited for his car to come around to go home to his penthouse apartment.

As he drove, an all too familiar Christmas song floated through the speakers, wrapping him in that contagious holiday spirit. He turned it up and began to sing along as was the tradition Jon introduced him to years ago.

_“Ding, dong, ding, dong_

_Christmas bells are ringing_

_Caroling, caroling now we go_

_Christmas bells are ringing_

_Caroling, caroling through the snow_

_Christmas bells are ringing_

_Joyous voices sweet and clear_

_Sing the sad of heart to cheer_

_Ding, dong, ding, dong_

_Christmas bells are ringing...”_

________________

Walking through the door, flapping the residue of dampened ice from his coat and removing his shoes his nose catches the fragrant scent of potato, sautéed mushrooms, garlic, onion, spices and wine.

Rounding the corner of the entranceway, he smiles warmly at the sight of Jon in the kitchen. They both grew into sufficient cooks thanks to lessons from Alfred, Ma Kent and Lois but what made Damian’s soul sing was how Jon catered to his vegetarianism. One of the things that always had the power to sweeten his sour moods, regardless of severity, was coming home to Jon cooking some of his favorite Middle Eastern and Asian dishes.

The Super was finishing the latkes when he felt Damian’s embrace around his torso and nuzzling kisses against the nape of his neck.

A spritely giggle burst out of the half-Kryptonian’s mouth as he tried not to drop the fried cakes he was plating.

Turning off the stove and moving away, he spins in Damian’s hold and reciprocates the affection capturing the Robin’s lips and smiling as he feels the other melt.

“ _Oooh_ good evening to you too...I take it the conservation initiative went well with the investors?”

Damian sighs into his mouth, peppering kisses all over Jon’s face, “It went quite terrible actually...” kiss to his cheeks, “...the curs wanted nearly 75% control of the project...” kiss to the corners of his lips, “...turn it into some kind of ostentatious ‘amusement’ park or gimmick resort...” kiss to the nose and back to his mouth, “...something.”

Jon shook with laughter at Damian’s lazy, light-heartedly dry answer; _truly_ a charmer. The half-Kryptonian hummed and pulled back to caress his boyfriend’s face as he gazed into effervescent emerald eyes.

Sky-blue irises simmered with amorous as they held each other, Jon ran his hands through obsidian hair and Damian leaned into his touch, “Batata hara, dolma with mejadra and something new, latkes.”

The Robin was practically salivating and he hummed appreciatively as they walked over to their dining table and sat down to eat.

________________

Damian chewed his last latke methodically, eyes closed as he savored the morsel, “Habibi...you have outdone yourself.”

Swallowing the piece of dolma, Jon beamed before taking a sip of wine, “Well thank you sir, I do try!”

Both men chuckled till it pattered into comfortable silence, Damian leaned and twined his fingers under his chin, watching Jon eat, the warmth of the heater and soft glow of Gotham city lights casting a rustic film over their living room.

“Do you know what I _really_ want to do right now?”

Jon wiped his mouth, perking at the smoothness of Damian’s voice, “What?”

Emerald irises sparked with zest, he smiled widely, “Dance to ridiculously overrated Christmas songs.”

The half-Kryptonian blinked and cackled, his teeth on full display, “Well I think that can be arranged but not before we light the first candle.”

Damian pauses and cocks his head curiously, “What are you---”

Jon smiles coyly as he looks beyond Damian and the other follows the man’s line of sight to an object on their living room table where an ornate menorah resides.

They walk over and the Super motions for them to sit on the floor, he removes two candles and matches as Damian awes over the artisanship. Judging by the stained discoloration, it was most likely made of brass or bronze. The delicate, intricate floral design was beautiful as it wrapped around each stem and interconnected at the trunk of the antique.

“It was your grandma Martha’s.” Damian looked over at Jon, eyes widening slightly. Sky blue irises burned low like a hearth, “I thought we’d try something different this year...something more personal.” he grinned, “The original menorah mentioned in the Talmud describes a candelabrum with seven lamps, symbolizing universal enlightenment. Seven alludes to the branches of human knowledge represented by six lamps inclined inwards and the central lamp signifies the light of God. It also denotes the creation in seven days with the center light embodying the Sabbath. ”

Damian hummed in intrigue, an eyebrow raised in question, “I see but, this menorah has nine branches....”

Jon smiled as he idly straightened the wick on one of the candles, “The Talmud states the prohibition of a seven-lamp menorah outside of the Temple or Synagogue. Hanukkah commemorates the Maccabean victory over the Syrian-Greek army of Antiochus IV who controlled Jerusalem and the province of Judea. It signifies a division of ideals within the Jewish community, those who believed in complete assimilation into Greek culture and those who wanted to maintain their traditions. In favor of the assimilators, Antiochus outlawed Judaism and desecrated the Temple of Jerusalem with idols of Grecian gods.”

Damian’s eyes misted over in understanding, a story as old as time he ruefully snorted at the seeming similarities within his own family.

“Here, take a whiff and tell me what you smell.” The Robin pulled back at the half-Kryptonian’s abrupt intrusion of his space, looking at the candle he tilts his head suspiciously but takes the wax stick and inhales.

Hints of frankincense and myrrh intertwined within the dominant scent of olive oil. “The olive tree was central to ancient life in the countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea, Israel being one. It lit the sacred menorah within the Temple of Jerusalem, anointed kings and כהנים גדולים ( _high priests)._ Candles weren’t often used if ever, lamps were the main vessels for oil to burn but as the years progressed, candles took the place of such holders.”

A scratch and sizzle ignited a match in Jon’s hand as he lit the candle, “I wanted to keep the tradition, so I researched and interestingly, Gotham has a surprisingly active Jewish community!” the flame danced and bounced off the reflection of his eyes and Damian smiled, mesmerized. “These are handmade beeswax candles infused with frankincense, myrrh and pure 100% olive oil. You know frank---”

“ _‘And when they came into the stable, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.’_ Matthew 2:11.”

Jon blinked comically as Damian rolls his eyes, “ _Really_ Habibi, have you forgotten to whom you’re speaking to?” he said breezily making Jon melt.

Nodding noncommittedly, cupping under the burning candle he nudged his head towards Damian to come forth with his candle, “How could I forget. Okay genius—then tell me the rest of the Hanukkah story.”

The Robin clicked his tongue, “I _could_ but you’re so charming when _playing_ the scholar.”

He received a smack and chuckled lightly, Jon rolled his eyes amusedly “After their victory over Antiochus, the Maccabees reclaimed and cleansed the Temple. They rededicated it to the one true God. As custom dictated, they sought to relight the menorah in the courtyard but discovered only one small bottle of oil with enough to burn for one day. Miraculously the sparse bit of oil burned for eight days and nights until new oil was made.”

They held their respective candles as Jon grinned, “Hanukkah translates to ‘rededication’ which professes the opportunity to rededicate ourselves to our most cherished values. The candlelight reminds us of our responsibility to bring light into darkness and repair the broken world. Thus, it is known as the ‘Festival of Lights’.”

Jon placed his candle in the tallest branch and wordlessly gestured for the other candle, which Damian provided. “We light a candle each evening with the _shamash (helper)_ candle till we fill the hanukkiah and with each candle we dedicate a specific hope.”

Damian hummed, “And what hope shall we dedicate to our first evening light Habibi?” he leaned comfortably into the half-Kryptonian, head rested against his shoulder.

Sky blue irises simmered, his face soft and heart full of love, “I hope we continue to be each other’s save space.”

Warm lips pressed against his cheek, tender and filled with promise. “ **إن شاء الله** _(God willing)_ Habibi, **إن شاء الله** _(God willing)._ Now— _dance with me_.”

Jon laughed as Damian pulled him up and lead them over to their record player to rifle through the collection of classic Christmas tunes.

_________________________________________________

_Friday December 11 th _

Candle 2-Evening 2

Jon nearly lost footing on the apartment balcony, worn and weary from a league mission in space. He wanted nothing more than to collapse on his comfortable king size bed and nestle up to his boyfriend’s warmth.

Unlocking the sliding door, he’s greeted to chocolate, cinnamon and woodsy scents weaved with savory spices. Smiling, he trudges in and locks the door as tired eyes lock on to Damian’s form busy in the kitchen.

Jon floats over and lands six inches away from the Robin having learned long ago that sneaking up on the man always resulted in an attack to the face, body or groin.

“Hey Darlin’, what’s---”

When Damian turned around, Jon gawked at the band-aids on his brow and side of his cheek.

“What happened to you?”

The Robin shrugged and waved his hand dismissively, “Patrol. A robber with a knife. A few cuts, nothing to worry about Habibi.”

Jon hummed but kept the frown as he wrapped arms around the man’s waist, nuzzling and kissing the bandaged cheek.

“I’ll kiss it better.”

The other snorted as he leaned into Jon’s lips, “We’re not kindergarteners Jon...” his voice tapered off as Jon trails kisses down his neck and into his collarbone.

“I’m an ali---”

“ _Half_ ”

He lightly bit at Damian’s earlobe to which the other hissed, “My kisses are magic and you know it. _In fact_...”

He began to suck on a particularly sensitive spot in the crook of Damian’s neck and shoulder, “I seem to recall _‘healing’_ your massive erec---”

“Oh silence your vulgar tongue---”

“ _Yes!_ My tongue did have you screaming---”

Damian’s face blazed red as he shoved the chackling Super away from him. “Get out of my sight before I---”

“ _Cum_?”

A slipper flies past his head as he laughs, easily dodging and retreating towards the bedroom to shower.

________________

He was refreshed but still beat as he walked into the living room only to halt in his steps when he noticed the largely looming lamp next to the far corner of their couch. The space was devoid of end table and was set up with a recliner.

“Wha...?”

Arms wrapped around his torso, “An early Christmas gift.”

Jon nearly cried as Damian led him to the chair and turned on the lamp, “Soak up your sunlight and we’ll eat when you’re ready.”

The Super smiled thankfully as he instantly began to doze, leaving Damian to his own devices.

________________

Sipping their cups of chocolate after a hearty meal, they sat on the floor surrounded by pillows and wrapped in blankets.

Damian unwrapped himself from their cocoon to light the second candle for the menorah. He held the candle just lieu of its branch, emerald eyes glimmered against the dim ember, “I hope we continue to safely protect and serve the world.”

A snicker made the Robin smirk knowingly as they laid together, drifting into listless slumber.

_________________________________________________

_Saturday December 12 th _

Candle 3-Evening 3

“Guess what!”

Damian glanced at Jon over his shoulder from the couch where he was looking up some contracts while simultaneously petting Alfred the cat. He winced slightly as he felt his neck muscles twitch painfully. He frowned bitterly, these sudden bouts of spasms were getting on his nerves but for the sake of the Super, he ignored it to provide his undivided attention.

“What is it Habibi?” he asked nonchalantly, bullet pointing a particular clause to mention in tomorrow’s meeting. A soft thud made him look up at the grinning half-Kryptonian waving a paper above his head.

“I’m a finalist for a Pulitzer for that piece I wrote about Metropolis’s black market syndicates’ partnership with LexCorp!”

Sky blue irises sparkled with excitement, pearly white veneer blinding, Damian couldn’t help the pride bubbling up inside him Jon’s vivaciousness was infectious.

The Robin smiles lovingly and laughed as Jon embraced him, papers left to the wayside as they floated and twirled in the air. He valiantly held strong against the bout of annoying dizziness and queasiness.

They kissed and nuzzled, joking and chuckling landing on the ground feeling lighter than clouds as they swayed.

“This calls for a double celebration; I received an email from one of the top eco-animal conservationist non-profits in the country this morning. They want to be a part of my project.”

Damian buried his face further into Jon’s collar and inhaled his windy, toasty scent sighing with happiness. Jon rubbed his back and kneaded his hips suggestively, which elicited a sharp hiss.

Spooked concern crosses the half-Kryptonian’s face, “Dami! I’m sorry babe I totally for--” two fingers silenced his rambling, the Robin mustered a small smile, “I’m alright Habibi; you merely caught me off guard.”

The worry didn’t disappear from the Super, Damian closed his eyes as he leaned into the other man, “I’ll be _alright_ Jon, don’t fret.”

Jon pouted, “You know that doesn’t work on me, it only makes me worry more...”

Damian hummed, “Crybaby”

Jon huffed, “Robot”

A hard punch to his gut made Jon sputter in surprise as Damian sauntered back to the couch to finish his work.

________________

“I hope we continue to make leaps and bounds in our careers.” The sizzle of wax was the only sound in the void of their living room. As Jon reset the shamash and third candle in their respective placeholders, Damian walked over with two plates of leftovers and plopped gently down on the couch next to him.

They put on a movie and feasted while laughing and ridiculing the action sequences as the world spun and evening blended into dusk.

_________________________________________________

_Sunday December 13 th _

Candle 4-Evening 4

Damian leaned against the icy medal door of his en-suite bathroom in his office willing the dizziness away. He hated being sick, it rarely if ever happened but when it did he often got over the ailment within two days tops. However, it seemed that the invisible beasts in the air had come for blood. The first week he awoke like normal albeit with some body aches, somewhat more painful than normal but he chalked it up to the extra hours of patrol he took on due to Richard taking ill himself. As the day progressed he was overcome with sudden bouts of exhaustion as if he never slept which, again wasn’t unusual especially for a Bat. It was currently Sunday, the illness only intensified in dizziness, and then throbbing stomach cramps that left him unable to eat. Jon practically threatened to get rid of their animals until he begrudgingly agreed to stay home and recover.

Unfortunately, whatever had infested his body was not letting up and the muscle spasms were the worst of the symptoms, it was the main contributor of his abdominal trouble. Ever the worrywart, Jon made him an appointment with Dr. Leslie Thompkins.

________________

Let it not be said that Damian Wayne wasn’t a patient man... _somewhat_. As he drummed his fingers on the armchair and bounced his crossed legs incessantly, the Robin thought sourly how waiting was his least favorite thing in the world.

Was he being overdramatic? Yes.

Was he going to give Jon the silent treatment for forcing him to leave the warmth of their apartment very sore and growing increasingly queasy due to the dizziness from moving? _Hell_ _Yes!_

“Damian?”

He shifted to glance at Dr. Thompkins and follow her movement as she sat at the desk across from him. He analyzed her body language, took in her mood, which appeared virtually at ease, his nerves calmed slightly but then again a physician is trained in the art of subtlety. She was gearing up to deliver the news of his terminal demise, he was sure of it!

She looked up and _smiled_ at him, he blinked at her—this duplicitous bit--

“Aside from the physical symptoms, your blood work came back clear of any viruses or inherent diseases.”

He frowned incredulously, “You’ll forgive my skepticism in that conclusion Thompkins. I’m not sure I call near debilitating dizzy spells and body spasms that prevent me from consuming sustenance as a _‘clean bill of health’_.”

The doctor chuckled at the plucky Robin much to his chagrin, “While I agree that all those symptoms in any other circumstance would warrant red flags, in your case I wouldn’t worry too much, they’ll pass.”

Damian scowled at her tone of confidence, “Doctor---”

She held up a finger as she wrote on a prescription pad, and tore it out then paper-clipped it to his patient copy summary report.

Signaling him to follow they walked towards the door, Damian was shrugging on his coat, stewing in frustration when Dr. Thompkins pushed the paper into his chest, taking it wordlessly he walked out with the physician close behind.

“I wrote you a prescription for some muscle relaxers, non-drowsy meclizine over the counter and a great recipe for homemade ginger tea or you can just go to the supermarket and purchase a box of ginger tea. Any brand but it has to be caffeine-free.”

Damian huffed at the woman but nodded nonetheless, before he left the office, she halted him by his forearm and smiled warmly, “Merry Christmas Mr. Wayne”.

________________

He was late. He was late. He was FUCKING LATE!

All day long Jon sat on the metaphorical edge of his seat, his mind in straits over Damian’s appointment. He demanded- _DEMANDED_ Damian call him, text him--fucking scream for him as soon as it was over and yet...

Radio silence. Nada. Zip!

Now Jonathan Samuel “Cinnamon Roll”— _Kon you’re so cheesy!_ —Kent was a man of exceeding patience, one had to be to handle a Bat but sometimes... _SOMETIMES_ all he wanted to do was lose it.

Like today. _BUT_ and that was a huge “but”, he had to once again quell the inner beast within. He had an article to write, edit and then go holiday shopping.

Well. At the rate his blood pressure had been at the start and midafternoon, no one could blame him for extending his spree from two in a half hours to five. It was only when he received a text from his boyfriend that he even realized how late it was.

He raced home, nearly flying through the halls of the complex, having left the Christmas packages at the manor.

Hastily he opened the front door, locked it, shoved off his shoes and floated around the corner expecting an extremely pissed Damian, what greeted him instead was a stovetop of dinner, the dog barking his arrival and the cat meowing in-between his legs requesting pets.

“Habibi?”

Jon blinked as he watched Damian leisurely walk towards him from the bedroom, looking relatively normal and without a grimace of pain on his face. He didn’t look rundown nor disorientated, his face was a bit flushed and eyes slightly rimmed rosy and glossy but he chalked that up to illness.

“Uhhh... _hi_? Hon are you—you never called and I tried call---”

A kiss silenced him and for a moment, he melted into Damian’s arms but then he remembered himself and pushed the Robin back who looked confused.

“Babe... _appointment_? What’s the verdict?”

Damian blinked and smiled, “Nothing terminal. Blood work came back normal just the average run of the mill cold.”

Jon blinked, his eye twitching slightly---he’s going to have an aneurism, “ _Damian_. Come on, you were practically debilitated and _shit_ , I don’t even know PROBABLY dying and now you’re _FINE_?”

The Robin rolled— _ROLLED_ his eyes as he moved away from Jon and began to serve them dinner, “Jon you over exaggerate, now come eat.”

Silence followed and the Robin glanced over at his boyfriend only to be met with a pouty, stubborn Super frowning at him like a petulant child. Damian had to refrain from laughing, he sighs as he signals for the man to follow him to the table.

“Alright, alright—she did mention that because of my physical history and lack of sleep that the cold affected me worse than normal but gave me some prescriptions for body aches and dizzy spells, satisfied?”

Jon eyed him warily for any measure of deceit, listened intently for irregularities in his heartbeat, then with an irritated huff, he sat down and they ate.

________________

Music floated through the air, both men lost in their own worlds and tasks in different parts of the apartment.

Jon had just finished proofing the final page of his outline for a small piece for an indie magazine he freelanced for when Damian walked into the living room.

He had a calmness about him that soothed Jon immensely, especially given the previous days when the Bat had been in the throes of his cold.

He walked over to join him on the floor in front of the menorah, another evening and another candle lit...each light bringing them closer to the commencement of the festival of lights.

Damian lit the candle this time, poising himself against Jon’s side, his face glowing from the light of fire in his hand.

“I hope for resilient health and abundant prosperity.”

He received an embrace and tender kiss to his neck making them both snort ironically.

_________________________________________________

_Monday December 14 th _

Candle 5-Evening 5

Damian almost found out. Jon groaned for the umpteenth time as he sat in his office trying and failing to get any work done all because he was careless enough to be caught talking to Tim about the ‘menu’.

Ever the detective, Damian questioned the half-Kryptonian as passive-aggressively as possible and in a bind, sweating bullets Jon weighed his options.

He choose guilt tripping, the only real ace up his sleeve against the incorrigible Bat. He really played it up switching to kicked-puppy mode, working up the glossy eyes and utter look of betrayal.

Inwardly he smirked as he observed Damian’s resolve crumble under such power, he went into this overdramatic story of wanting to surprise him with a private dinner at his favorite restaurant and Tim offered to set it all up, which is why he was calling about the menu for the chef.

Undetered, Damian arched a brow and countered with logic, reminding him that he’d surprised him a day ago with a surprise dinner, why another. Losing his nerve, fearing he’d spill the truth he crossed his arms with his own question, asking him why he wasn’t going on patrol anymore even with the return of good health. That gave the Robin pause, suddenly silent, diverting his eyes but clicking his tongue as he peevishly waved Jon away, begrudgingly conceding the argument.

On the one hand, Jon was glad that he was able to quell the suspicion but he hated lying to Damian.

________________

That evening Jon was the first one home and so he made dinner, fed the pets and played with them to lift his spirits.

The turning of the doorknob aroused him from said activities.

“D-Dami?”

No answer but the Super knew that heartbeat like the back of his hand; he lifted off the couch and turned to face his boyfriend with trepidation.

Damian glanced up and he didn’t _look_ vexed nor downtrodden but Jon knew better than to judge a Bat by his expressions.

Not wanting to bring up the obvious, he opted for generic small talk, “Are you hungry? I made ramen.”

Meandering over to the kitchen he served them bowls of soup when suddenly he felt Damian hug him from behind, resting his forehead in the middle of his back.

“I’m sorry...for this morning...for interrogating you.”

Jon sighed setting the ladle down turning and bringing his arms around to reciprocate the affectionate gesture, his chin on top of the Robin’s head.

“I’m sorry too.”

“Hmm.”

________________

Jon placed the fifth candle in its branch and leaned back next to his boyfriend.

“I hope for complete transparency between us always.”

Damian smiles, capturing Jon in an ardent kiss as they lay against their couch in the warmth of the fireplace.

_________________________________________________

_Tuesday December 15 th _

Candle 6-Evening 6

He arrived late into Gotham United Airport on an evening flight after spending all day in Dubai for a conference. Tim usually handled the tedious PR but something unavoidably Bat related came up so he volunteered to cover him.

As soon as he gets inside the apartment, he notices that it’s dark with only the stove light lit and the menorah softly glowing on the coffee table. He spots the plate of food on the counter and a post-it with a heart and _‘Dearest’_ scribbled in the middle.

Damian smiles, his heart swelling however the lateness of the evening and long plane ride diminished his appetite. Placing the food in the refrigerator, he shuts off the stove light but pauses when he notices the sixth branch of the candelabrum is bare. Damian grabs a candle, lights it with the shamash and places it in the holder.

“I hope we always long for each other.”

He slowly pads into their bedroom, seeing Jon huddled under the comforter, body rising and falling as he snores softly. He takes a quick, refreshing shower, brushes his teeth and rinses before practically jumping into bed.

Laying gently under the covers, snuggling into the Super’s warmth, he kisses Jon’s lips producing a dreamy contented sigh. Sky blue eyes open to sleepy emerald and the man smiles appreciatively, “Dami...love you... _Dearest_.”

The Robin hums and nuzzles into Jon’s neck, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist. The half-Kryptonian laughs dryly as he tucks Damian under his chin nestled close to his heart.

_______________________________________________

_Wednesday December 16 th _

Candle 7-Evening 7

Often, his ears tuned into conversations throughout the days and nights of random people like a god privy to humanity’s secrets.

The cacophony however faded under the prominence of Damian’s voice, his heartbeat like a constant rippling echo that grounded Jon mentally and emotionally.

He knew Damian’s past was drenched in blood and gore, that he’d been to hell and back and knew well the inner demons the man still struggled with but even still he was the only thing that mattered despite the gnarled world from which the Robin emerged.

________________

Damian was bored. The spotlight and pageantry of these balls sullied his mood worse than losing a criminal on Gotham’s streets but he wore the mask with guile and the suave smile painted on his lips exuded enough charisma to appear approachable yet mysteriously intimidating.

No doubt, his background, ethnicity and accent were the subject of supercilious comments of old money elitists and yet his name was linked to such words as ‘elusive’, ‘exotic’ and ‘enchanting’.

He found it perplexing and trivial; spurning the media, which served to fuel the flames of the shameless gossip of high society. His brothers were objects of contempt and love, revered by all in one way or another but he refused to be an effigy.

As the only blood son of Bruce Wayne it seemed as though everyone felt entitled to reinvent, construct an image and idea of him. Such things eluded him for he was intolerable of fabrication.

As his eyes roamed the spaciously crowded room, he caught sight of Jon and observed as he often did, how magnetic the Super was. He smiled with ease, shook hands and navigated polite conversation expertly, never mind his credentials as an investigative journalist. Jon was a born extrovert, bright and vibrant perhaps not as eloquent but oh how sincere and flattering he was.

Damian wasn’t sunny, nor an individual naturally given to platitudes; he thrived in solitude. He was an introvert, but Jon...he refused to see Damian as anything but a friend, an equal, a partner...a hero when all he saw in the mirror was a killer.

A creature of light had no business with one of darkness, especially one who served under the illustrious mantle of ‘Superman’. He tried. In the beginning, he tried to discourage the Super, hurt him—not irrevocably but enough so Jon would cut ties, give up and let go.

However, in spite all his efforts Jon remained. He never faltered, never strayed nor damned him to loneliness.

He was steadfast, saw beyond the legacies to discover the broken child who just wanted love and compassion.

________________

Sky blue irises melded with emerald green, a sea between them, flashes of light, he floated in the depths of mindless voices as he strides past the mob anchored by the lure of Damian’s heartbeat thrumming through his body.

Ferocity encapsulated by fragile bones, his song forgotten but at the core, a siren beckoned all who willingly lent an ear to listen. Black as night and yet cosmic he would choose the Robin without question because Jon would follow as constant as the stars wherever Damian went.

His hand landed on the Bat’s shoulder and the two held each other’s gaze, oblivious to the world around them.

His lips grazed the other’s ear, “Let’s go home.”

In an instant, they bid good night to the Waynes and were out the door.

________________

Damian hummed, snuggled under a thick blanket, cozy and luxuriating in the afterglow in front of the fireplace. Clothing strewn from the entryway leading to their living room, Jon mindfully pushing the coffee table aside so they had a place to lay.

He ran his hands up and down olive-tanned skin, kneading and caressing as he squeezed his thighs against Damian’s making the man under him gasp which made him wiggle his hips and the Robin smirk salaciously before laughing.

“Not that I don’t enjoy having you nestled inside but...” Damian glances over at the menorah and Jon follows his gaze, and then elicits a groan as he rubs his heated cheek into the other’s neck.

“I feel like we committed a sin...”

Damian blinked and then wheezed a laugh as he stroked Jon’s messy hair. “ _Habibi_...”

Jon’s eyes widened pointedly, “BABE, I’m serious wh---”

As he moved, Damian giggled which made his cheeks burn but also smack Jon to let up to which the half-Kryptonian merely scrunched his nose teasingly.

“I’m so comfy and warm!” Another smack and string of banter finally gets Jon to detach them as they begin to move everything back in place and then pick up their clothing.

Before heading to the bedroom, they knelt down and lit the seventh candle; Jon smiled at Damian as he placed it in the holder.

“I hope we are always loyal to each other.”

Damian leaned in weaving their arms together and kissed his jawline tenderly, “Understatement Beloved.”

Jon chuckled as they rose and walked towards their room.

_______________________________________________

_Thursday December 17 th _

Candle 8-Evening 8

Damian stretched against his chair moaning lowly as his bones cracked; he completed his paperwork, shut down his laptop and exited the office languidly walking towards the elevators. As he pasted the reception desk, his eyes caught sight of a picture frame of the receptionist’s family stirring butterflies in his stomach. The cliché nuclear family used to provoke spite because that was not his reality and even through scoffs and derogatory comments, deep in the recesses of his soul he wondered and even yearned for a portion of it. His dreams were carefully constructed outlines of what his ideal family would be and how life would’ve been.

When he first met Jon and the Kents, the longing mutated into resentment. It took time, heated arguments, tears and finally—reluctantly—candid sharing to break the barriers of his heart.

It seems like a delusion that he should be lucky enough to be in this present, in a haven of acceptance and support. Gazing into soft, crystalline sky blue irises and feeling strong arms envelope him in a warm embrace made him sigh peacefully and overflow with so much love that he thanks the higher powers for relenting and lowering his defenses, it was and is the best decision he ever made in his life.

Damian lights the final candle as the half-Kryptonian holds him against his broad chest. Jon breathes in his scent, which sends tingles throughout his body, “I hope we grow old together.”

Jon chuckled as he nuzzled into the other’s neck, “As if there was any doubt.”

_________________________________________________

_Friday December 18 th_

Driving up that evening to the manor Damian is awed by the scenic blanketed iridescent snow covered rooftops and white lights around the bushes and every other window frame. He parked and walked up, taking out his keys and opened the door greeted by an armful of Richard Grayson.

“Little D! Gosh it’s been forever—how’s my baby brother doing?” Damian reciprocated the hug, rolling his eyes affectionately.

“We literally had lunch two days ago Richard.”

Dick pulled away feigning insult, “ _Exactly!_ That’s a lifetime in my book!” his eyes crinkled and shined with amusement making the younger Robin snort as he removed his coat.

“Where is everyone?” he asked as they walked into the living room, Dick chuckled, “Oh you know bats, where else. But Jon got here about 40 minutes before you and said to meet him in your bedroom.”

Damian cocked his head curiously but dismissed it as Dick gave him one last hug and headed towards the kitchen while he made his way up the stairs.

________________

He found Jon sitting on the bed looking as handsome and celestial as ever making his heart to skip beats.

“Beloved?”

Jon turned and brightened, standing up and meeting the other halfway bringing him in for an embrace, “How was work?”

Damian hummed contently, “Excruciatingly dismal but other than that, how was yours?”

Jon giggled boyishly, “Oh, you know... finished my latest spread, saved a train of citizens from running off a haywire rail line—small potatoes.”

Damian chuckled lightly, pulling back to gaze into sky blue eyes admiringly.

“Richard told me that the rabble are in the cave which means we have time to freshen up before dinner.”

He pulled away and began to meander around the closet, removing hangers of shirts and pants for both himself and Jon who’d left an adequate amount of clothing at the manor for such occasions.

“What do you want to wear tonight?” he looked between the standard plaid and a simple powder blue knitted sweater courtesy of Ma Kent.

“It’s freezing so I recommend the---” emerald eyes caught sight of a sign on the back of the door.

**TURN AROUND**

He look behind him to see Jon knelt before him with an open box and platinum ring smiling adoringly.

“Dami... _Dearest_ , when our fathers partnered us up I was sure we’d kill each other and I didn’t think we’d ever get past the animosity....”

Shiny sky blue irises danced with misty emerald, “...I thank Rao _every day_ that we were both so stubborn and refused to throw in the towel---”

They laughed shakily, “—I know marriage is cliché but _damnit_ , I need a better way to tell the world you’re mine and I’m yours without battling the constant urge to shout it from the sky every waking moment. Marry me _please_.”

Damian’s eyes crinkled as he dropped to his knees, smiling like a fool and surging forward capturing Jon’s lips in a passionate kiss.

They sighed and moaned only breaking apart for air as Jon fluttered his lashes dreamily, “I-Is that a yes then?”

The blushing Robin arched an eyebrow, “What do you think Habibi?”

The Super nuzzled his nose against Damian’s cheek, sighing comically “That’s good because if you said no I don’t know what I would’ve told everyone getting ready right now.”

The Robin pulled back and tipping his head confusedly which made Jon wordlessly lead the way to the window.

Looking out into the backyard, Damian’s jaw dropped slightly as his eyes widened; the patio was decorated with fir trees of monochromatic iridescent bulbs and pops of matte teal star ornaments, elegant and refined strings of soft lighting hung up leading the way to a white tent on the frosted grass. His family and Jon’s dressed in tuxedos, dresses and chattering away as they drank spirits and ate hor d’oeuvres.

“I figured a mirco-wedding with our families was more us than some big celeb type shin-dig.”

“H-How...?”

The half-Kryptonian shrugged and ran his hand through thick raven locks, “It wasn’t easy. I wanted to make it meaningful but _not_ cheesy, subtle _but_ significant...then it hit me—your grandma’s Jewish heritage. Then I researched specific Jewish holidays in December and lo’ behold— _Hanukkah!_ ”

Damian chuckled, shaking his head looking away from the window to marvel at his soon to be husband.

“Well ملاكي _(my Angel)_ you’ve certainly succeeded.”

________________

Jon stood at the altar, Alfred grinning at him with a glimmer in his eye as they waited for the ceremony to begin. He looked out at the modest group of guests, soaking up the jubilance and warmth like sunbeams. The tent is modestly adorned with hanging lanterns and wreaths of winter plants giving off a rustic vibe.

Suddenly soft instrumental music began to play and as Damian appeared; arm linked to Selena, with the brightest smile on his face, Jon triumphantly thought how he couldn’t have done any better than if he’d left it up to a professional planner.

Damian was fashioned in a dove white silk fitted tang jacket, straight loose pants and pecan colored faux leather oxfords. The jacket is opulently bedecked in eastern designs and patterns nodding to the Robin’s partial Chinese heritage. He looked like a regal monarch and Jon nearly floated off the ground if not for his father gently squeezing his elbow. By contrast, the Super wore a traditional fitted charcoal gray suit and matching oxfords with monogramed cufflinks of the El crest.

When the music fades out Jon blinks to attention right as Damian stands in front of him, scaling his eyes up and down, cheeks a tawny hue as emerald irises glimmer with reverence.

Alfred clears his throat, “We are gathered together on this night to witness and celebrate the marriage of Damian and Jonathan. We come together not to mark the start of a relationship, but to acknowledge and strengthen a bond that already exists. As their dearest family, it is our honor and privilege to stand witness to this event. It is our hope that your fulfillment and joy in each other will increase with each passing year.

Marriage is a commitment in life, where two people can find and bring out the very best in each other. It offers opportunities for sharing and growth that no other human relationship can equal, a physical and emotional joining that has the promise of a lifetime.”

The couple melt as the energy in the crowd seemed to, the butler smiles kindly as he looks at Jon,

“Jonathan, please repeat after me. I, Jonathan, take you Damian, to be my wedded husband...”

**“I, Jonathan, take you Damian, to be my wedded husband...”**

“I give to you in the presence of these witnesses, my promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”

**“I give to you in the presence of these witnesses, my promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”**

“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, grow with you in mind and spirit always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”

**“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, grow with you in mind and spirit always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”**

“Damian, please repeat after me. I, Damian, take you Jonathan, to be my wedded husband...”

**“I, Damian, take you Jonathan, to be my wedded husband...”**

“I give to you in the presence of these witnesses, my promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”

**“I give to you in the presence of these witnesses, my promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”**

“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, grow with you in mind and spirit always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”

**“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, grow with you in mind and spirit always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”**

Jon motioned for the mic and leaned in to speak, “FYI this is your Christmas present— I’m sorry but you’ll have to wait for your pair of Bengal kittens next year.”

Everyone erupted into bubbly laughter and guffaws, Damian wiping his eyes from more than the joke.

Alfred resumed his place, “Having this love in your hearts, you have chosen to seal your vows by exchanging rings. From the earliest times, the circle has been a sign of completeness. The rings that you have chosen to wear have neither beginning nor end, much like your love for one another.”

He motioned for the bearer to hand over the bands, “Jonathan, take this ring, place it on Damian’s finger and repeat after me.”

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness to you.”

**“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness to you.”**

Jon placed the ring on Damian’s finger and Alfred turned to Damian and repeated the instruction.

“Damian, take this ring, place it on Jonathan’s finger and repeat after me.”

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness to you.”

**“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness to you.”**

Damian mirrored the action, slipping the band on to Jon’s finger.

Alfred smiled, “Jonathan and Damian may your life together be immersed in love and excitement. May you strive to enrich each other in every possible way and may you work to bring the peace you find to this world.

I now pronounce you husbands; you may seal your union with a kiss.”

They embraced and kissed to boisterous applause.

_______________________________________________

“Have I mentioned I absolutely adore you?” giggling ensues as Jon squeezes his husband closer, “ _Only_ every hour on the hour but keep it coming, you know I live for praise!”

Laughter erupted from Damian like fireworks enticing Jon to twirl them mid-air and down again. They sway on the deserted dancefloor lost in each other just talking, joking and enjoying the ambiance of the evening.

“I can top this you know.”

Jon perked, eyebrow arched and head cocked sassily, “Oh, well _please_ give us a hit.” He smirked and ducked in for a chaste kiss making Damian squeak indignantly. The man composes himself and eyes the Super coyly, wrapping arms securely around Jon’s waist, “You will have to wait 9 months for it.”

The half-Kryptonian blinked bewilderedly but before he could say a word, “Damian? Son come over here real quick please!” Bruce called.

Damian turned, “Coming Father! I’ll only be a moment Habibi.” He briskly jogs off and then chuckles when he suddenly hears, “ _NO_ _FU_ \--- _DAMIAN!_ DAMI WAIT!”


End file.
